


That You Loved Me Still the Same

by victoriousscarf



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Afterlife, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-12
Updated: 2013-02-12
Packaged: 2017-11-29 01:06:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/680937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/victoriousscarf/pseuds/victoriousscarf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“It has been—” Thorin started, the halls they stood in tall and echoing like the chambers of Moria.</p><p>“Over a century,” Dwalin said and there was much wonder in his voice, hands gripping Thorin’s elbows. The touch didn’t feel the same as it once would have, when they were both alive, it felt like his hand would slide off at any second which only made him attempt to hold on harder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That You Loved Me Still the Same

**Author's Note:**

> For a prompt on the [Hobbit Kink Meme](http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/3651.html?thread=7087939t7087939): Okay so there are about a hundred (awesome) Thilbo prompts like this, but I'd really like to see a Dwalin/Thorin (Dworin? Is that the acceptable name for it?) or a Dwalin/Ori (Dwori?) version of it. I mean, Dwalin lives to be like, 340, so I think he'd be really happy to see his 'One' once his time is up. 
> 
> All my children, if filler goes with Dwalin/Thorin, that the relationship isn't established. Like, I'm talking epic pining from both sides. And a tearful "I never told you how much I loved you" reunion. 
> 
> Even more children if it's the opposite for Dwalin/Ori and they got in a fight before Ori left for Moria.
> 
> Title nicked from Enya's "Marble Halls" for no reason other than it seems to suit.

The halls were not entirely as Dwalin had expected them to be. Not that he had really given much thought to what might have been there, or what it would feel like to be finally be beyond the pale of death but for the first time in decades—perhaps even over a century, he did not feel tired.

And then Thorin was embracing him— _Thorin_ —and it was more than just coming home.

“It has been—” Thorin started, the halls they stood in tall and echoing like the chambers of Moria.

“Over a century,” Dwalin said and there was much wonder in his voice, hands gripping Thorin’s elbows. The touch didn’t feel the same as it once would have, when they were both alive, it felt like his hand would slide off at any second which only made him attempt to hold on harder.

“You outlived almost all of us,” Thorin said, stepping back slightly. Dwalin tried to focus on him in the lighting of these halls, stepping forward to keep abreast of the other. “The others will be excited to see you,” Thorin continued, turning his head as if to walk away and Dwalin jerked him back.

Thorin’s eyes widened slightly, tilting his head, heavy dark hair falling back from his face. “Thorin,” Dwalin said, not quite desperate but not wanting to move on to where the others were sure to be, preferring to stay with Thorin a moment longer.

Eyes drifting down, Thorin wound his hands around Dwalin’s forearms, something possibly wistful in his gaze. “It’s good to see you again,” he murmured, not moving to draw back. “You lived a long life.”

“Perhaps too long,” Dwalin said and Thorin’s eyes widened fractionally.

“It is odd to think of you dying in bed,” Thorin said, his brows drawing together slightly. “But I could not imagine why a life as such would be too long.”

“It is hard to live for so long without the one you love,” Dwalin said, unsure whether to stare at Thorin’s hands or his face, and noticing when Thorin tensed. “We are dwarves, and we love but once in our lives, no matter how long,” Dwalin continued quickly, turning his palms to grip the underside of Thorin’s arms.

“I did not realize you’d had a one,” Thorin murmured, almost shifting to draw away and Dwalin tried to tighten his grip.

“For I was always too frightened to tell you,” Dwalin said, the same fear still curling in his breast, but he was dead now and secrets seemed only fitting for the living. When Thorin’s eyes snapped to his face he continued, not wishing to stop again. “I could not leave Erebor, in all those long years, because it was your kingdom and what you’d given your entire life for. Balin set his gaze on Moria, and yet I could not follow him and abandon that mountain, that kingdom which was in your very soul. So I stayed, and I guarded Erebor for long, long years, and I thought of you the entire time. Her kings were good to her, but they were not—” For a moment he couldn’t continue, Thorin just staring at his face, frozen. “They were not you, no matter what glory they brought to the kingdom.”

“Perhaps that was best,” Thorin said, and Dwalin wanted to shrink away or shake the other man. Except Thorin still wasn’t drawing away from him, his confession notwithstanding. “That Erebor had kings other than me.” He seemed to hesitate, something lurking behind his eyes that Dwalin couldn’t quite see enough to make out.

“Thorin—” he tried to say and Thorin jerked his chin, silencing him.

“I missed you,” he said. “As the other’s came, Fili and Kili, and then the rest. Balin and Ori, Oin and Bifur and all the others, up to Gloin and still you never came and though the dead do not have the passions of the living, I missed you and waited. I’d hoped and hoped you’d have a full life—”

“How could I have without you?” Dwalin asked and Thorin jerked his chin again.

“But I’d hoped and hoped you would return to me as the rest of our companions came, as Dain and Dis joined us and told me of Erebor’s might,” Thorin said. “I listened for news of the dead while waiting for you and yet you somehow outlived us all.” He paused again, Dwalin not quite daring to speak. “I missed you,” he repeated.

“I had good long years,” Dwalin murmured when Thorin hesitated, not appearing like he was to continue. “But there were hard years, with the one I loved gone.”

“I’m here now,” Thorin said, tilting his head back again and Dwalin shifted one of his arms to finally bury it in the heavy locks. “Though I cannot but wish—wish that we might have both been braver in life.” Dwalin froze, hope kindling in his eyes and Thorin gave him a rueful smile, pushing his head into Dwalin’s hand. “For I could not imagine who else I could have loved.”

“I thought you were too busy, set on the kingdom to love anyone,” Dwalin managed and Thorin seemed to sigh.

The hand still on Dwalin’s arm started tracing circles and dimly Dwalin was aware they had been standing there long enough that others had come searching for them, hearing what he thought was Ori’s voice, and Kili asking his brother if perhaps their old bet was still valid even after all these years. But he did not look away from Thorin’s gaze which had softened under the strange light.

“No,” Thorin said quietly. “But I was more focused on honor and rights than allowing myself my own pleasures.”

“I wish I’d told you,” Dwalin murmured, and heard Gloin explaining something rapidly to Oin, Bombur laughing. “I’d wished I’d shown you.”

 “When Mahal needs us,” Thorin murmured. “When the world is remade and when we may have a second chance—”

“Shall we not waste it?” Dwalin asked, voice rough and Thorin smiled like Dwalin had seen him smile at his nephews and never noticed turned toward himself, the expression full of affection and warmth.

But then Dwalin heard the soft lilt of his brother’s voice, head whipping around without letting go of Thorin and the sight of Balin’s smile was almost as much of a balm as seeing Thorin’s face was. “But you’re shorter and wider since last we met.”

Balin scoffed. “Wider, perhaps, but not shorter. You’ve gotten yourself a bit wider, brother.”

Thorin finally dropped his grip on Dwalin’s arms and Dwalin dimly wondered if he gather Thorin’s body up against his, if Thorin would fell any more solid. “When we get whatever may pass as a second chance,” Thorin agreed. “We won’t waste it again. Until then,” he spread his arm out, the company grinning at where Thorin stood with Dwalin, greetings being called and Dwalin could see Fundin standing with his mother, warmth in their expression that he had not seen since Erebor fell. “Until then we shall have much to talk about.”

Dwalin returned his gaze to Thorin’s face. “Of course, my king.”

Something kindled behind Thorin’s eyes, a slow smile across his face. “As it should be, my one.”


End file.
